Y'all Don't Understand

Ok, of all the discomforting customs and phrases that you Texans do and say, I still can't get used to "y'all".  Believe it or not, I have no problem with the phrase, "y'all", because I understand that it's more convenient than saying my usual, "you guys", however, I still feel weird saying it.

I've been pretty good about avoiding the phrase, but it is tempting, and it finally slipped when I was telling my friend a story a few months back.  Honestly, I was disappointed in myself for straying from my Chicagoan ways; I panicked, thinking, how can I maintain my proud midwestern roots if I say the most common southern word? 

But here's the thing....I actually secretly like the phrase, "y'all".  It's easy to say and kinda fun too.  And...I bet my friends back home would think I'm really hip and different for saying it (or they would just think I'm really weird).  But, no matter how much I am kind of okay with "y'all", I still just don't think I'm going to say it.  I'm just too stubborn and stuck in my ways.

Oh, I almost forgot...there is one thing about "y'all" that bothers me, and probably every other midwesterner.  It's when people say, "y'all's" (see, it doen't even look right when it's written).  This possessive form of "y'all" is often used by the Texans at Trinity in situations like, "Did y'all do y'all's homework?"  This use of the word is just a bad habbit and unfortunately grammatically incorrect, so as advice to the Texans, just say "your".

Just thought y'all might enjoy this photo I took of the Trinity Fountain.

Trinity Fountain by McKenzie Forbes is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Chuck vs. Chunk

As a member of a sport that involves a ball (volleyball) it  is nearly impossible for me to avoid the following southern habit:

It was recently discovered while at my volleyball team's practice that the term, "chuck", as in, "chuck the ball",  is mispronounced by Texans in that they tend to sneak an "n" in the middle of the word, pronouncing it like "chunk".  Now, I've gotten used to the odd pronunciations southerners have invented, but this one I will surely never get used to, the main reason being that every time some talks about "chunking a ball", i think of chunky salsa, chunky soup, or worse, vomit. 

To solve any confusion of the issue, see http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/chuck for pronunciation tips.

Also, here's an excerpt from an English book for more guidance: http://www.wsu.edu/~brians/errors/chuck.html

This work by McKenzie Forbes is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Crickets & Cockroaches

As walked to the Intramural Field to supervise an intramural flag football game last Monday night, I found myself dodging handfuls of huge cockroaches that skittered across the sidewalk right in front of my toes. They were the size of chapstick tubes and would not stop following me no matter how I tried to dodge them. Did I mention that they fly?  I arrived to work frustrated with creepy crawlers that made my journey unbearable and noticed a swarm of small insects surrounding the lamp post overlooking the field.  I ignored it for a while until my co-workers and I kept hearing taps against the lamp, then a smack on the ground.  hundreds of giant black crickets were flying straight into the light and landing on the cement bleachers along the field.  As the night went on, the dropping crickets multiplied and began falling on our heads, into our hoodies, on the score boards, and in people's bags.  Gross.

I was horrified by this southern display of discomfort, and kept thinking to myself: "This would never happen at home!" Until I came to Trinity, I had never been exposed to such nasty pests. Never before had I seen a cricket or cockroach as big as in San Antonio, and never had i known that both of them actually fly.  I know this crisis seems silly to the Texans at Trinity, but the only real summer bug I've been bothered by in the midwest was a mosquito or two.  So, Texas, I don't approve of this absurd night time wildlife, and I will contunue to wait impatiently until winter when all my flying enemies go back into hiding


This work by McKenzie Forbes is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

A Ranchy Obsession

Since coming to San Antonio one year ago, I immediately began to realize the dependency Texans or southerners in general have on Ranch dressing.  Don't get me wrong, I love drenching my salads and veggies in ranch dressing, but, using ranch on anything besides veggies, with the exception of the occasional bucket of hot wings, was almost unheard of.

The more time I spend here, the more I learn about the immense possibilities of such a simple condiment.  Here are some of the outrageous non-veggie foods that I have seen Texans flood with Ranch dressing:

• pizza
• sandwiches
• cheese sticks
• fries
• chicken
• grilled cheese
• chips
• shrimp
• burgers
• Macaroni and cheese (???)
• "anything fried"

I would like to make it clear that while I am usually a healthy eater and conscious of the fat content in ranch dressing, I accept this southern norm (in moderation of course).  I will make an effort to bring this Texan tradition back my Midwestern friends, assuring them with the words of my roommate, Courtney, “You can put it on anything!”

Crayon vs. Crown

Since moving from Chicago, IL to Trinity University in San Antonio, TX, I've learned about many aspects of the southern lifestyle that I had never come across before. Unfortunately, most of these learning experiences are unexpected, awkward, and usually come from small misunderstandings, but nonetheless, learning experiences.


For example, when I made my roommate a pointed pink crown out of construction paper for her birthday, she put it on and said, "I look like a pink crown!" Confused, I asked her to repeat what she had just said. "It makes me look like a pink crown, you know, like crayola," she explained.It took a minute to set into place. Finally, I realized that she was trying to say "Crayon".

In the midwest, you see, crayon is pronounced: "CRAN"
In the south however, crayon is pronounced "CRAY-YON" or worse, "CROWN"

While I have come to accept the "cray-yon" pronunciation as acceptable, because it really is the phonetic pronunciation of the spelling, I continue to wince when Texans say "crown". For the sake of those preciously vibrant sticks of wax that made everyone's kindergarten days a rainbow of an experience, please, respect the crayons by not confusing them with crowns.